Pantoufle en Verre
by At A Venture
Summary: Eric/Sookie/Bill. Fairy Tale Series. Sookie may be dating Bill, but she can't take her eyes off Eric. Some BSN included for Bill fans!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This story takes place somewhere between LDiD and CD. The title comes from Charles Perrault's 1697 version of this fairy tale. _

* * *

**Pantoufle en Verre**

_Part 1 of 2_

Bon Temps is awfully quiet after two in the morning. The sidewalks around here roll up around nine, and then only Merlotte's stays open until the morning hours. I've always been wary about turning on the radio as I drive home, afraid I'd wake someone up with all my singing along to country songs. So, on my way home, I just stare out of the windshield and hope I don't pass out before I pull up the driveway, collect the mail, and stumble into the house. Lately, my…what…boyfriend (that didn't sound right), Bill Compton, had taken the liberty of showing up on my porch steps to fill my early morning hours with a healthy variety of erotic displays of affection. Sure, I was up even later now, and had dark circles under my eyes sometimes, but I think it might be worth it. After all, I was a virgin for twenty-five years! Everyone needs to break out of their shell sometime!

I rolled through the ruts in my gravel with a sigh, parked behind the house in front of the back porch, and hopped up the stairs without any kind of grace. Bill was waiting for me, and he took my hand and pulled me to him as I reached for the door knob. I let out a little giggle and kissed him politely (sleepily) on the lips. The vampire, my vampire, took my house keys and unlocked the door. His hand slithered around my hips as I walked inside. Mmm, he was definitely a treat to come home to, and out here in the middle of nowhere, without a neighbor for miles, I didn't have to worry about waking up the neighbors. I could yell as loud as I liked, and I often did.

"Sookie," he said, touching my neck with his lips. I shivered. "Are you free on Saturday?"

"I have to work," I murmured. "I have the day shift."

"So you are free for the part of Saturday that will allow us to visit with one another?" His lips roamed down to my clavicle. He pulled aside the collar of my uniform shirt.

"Mmm, yes," I gasped.

"Eric has sent us an invitation to a party in Shreveport." Bill held up an envelope. He'd opened it already, but he'd folded the invitation and put it back inside. I took it from him curiously.

"Really?" Okay, so I didn't like Eric so much, but how many parties did I get invited to, huh? I stuck my fingers in the envelope and pulled out a daintily folded white card with an embossed two-line border. Fancy. Bill's lips were trailing down my stomach, but I was so excited about the card that I barely noticed him. Okay, okay, priorities. I flipped open the card. It read:

_Eric the Northman, Sheriff of Area 5, requests your presence at a semi-formal ball._

_At the Lakeshore Hotel_

_Shreveport, Louisiana_

_Saturday, the 10__th__ of June_

_11 o'clock_

"Ooh," I giggled. Then my heart sank. What on earth was I going to wear to a ball hosted by a vampire? A little voice in the back of my head told me that the canary yellow dress I'd worn to my senior prom wouldn't be quite appropriate for the occasion.

"You will attend with me, then?" Bill asked. He'd resumed his standing position, and he took the invitation from me and placed it on the side table. His cool hands pressed against my sides and pushed my shirt up over my head.

"Well, twist my arm, why doncha?" I grinned at him. Bill stared at me blankly. Okay, some colloquialisms (word of the day!) were completely lost on him. "Yes, Bill, I'd love to go with you."

"Do you have something to wear?" Bill was kissing me between my breasts. I closed my eyes thoughtfully. Nope, I didn't have a thing to wear, but I certainly wasn't going to tell Bill that! When we'd gone to Dallas, on business for Eric, I'd spent a bundle of "business money" on business attire. This event wasn't business-related at all, and darnit, I was not going to keep accepting gifts and charity from my boyfriend (or whatever). I was sure I could find a dress all on my own. After all, I had three days to shop (after and before work) before the night rolled around.

"Yes," I lied. I turned my attention back to his caresses before he could inquire further as to my intentions in the clothing department. My hands slipped into his hair, and I traced his sideburn with my thumb. Bill made a quiet murmuring sound and unhooked my bra with a flick of his fingers.

With my breasts free to suck into his mouth, Bill lifted me up off the floor and carried me back to my bedroom. Still giddy from the invitation (to a real ball), I giggled as he scooped me up and tossed me onto my bed. I fell back against the pillows and the fluffy mattress. My hands reached up to pull the ponytail holder out of my hair. Bill's expert hands floated over my skin, stroking my hips and thighs. His wrist wiggled up between them and I shivered with delight.

"Kiss me?" I asked him in a quiet but happy voice. He bent his head over me and consumed my lips, parting them with his tongue. My eager hands squirmed between us to pull his belt free of the buckle. I could feel his fangs drop down and lightly graze my lower lip. Mmm.

"Sookie," Bill rumbled, shoving his pants down his hips. I stroked him with the palm of my warm hand. He was rigid and ready for me. His hands went back to my hips and lifted me up off the bed. I squeaked in my surprise and let out a new burst of happy giggles. My vampire's eyes filled with laughter, though his mouth remained hungry for me, short on the smiling. He entered me with a suddenness that cut off my giggles in favor of a gasping moan of pleasure. "My Sookie," I shivered.

We spent the rest of our night repeating the same or similar gestures of desire. He had me in a few positions, biting my neck each time to savor the experience of pleasure. I let waves of climax wash over me before I finally fell asleep. I dreamed of the way in which Bill would dance me across the ballroom floor, waltzing through a wonderland of live music and astonished guests. I was Cinderella with the Prince. I was Princess Aurora. I was Belle. I was even Katie Scarlett O'Hara, dancing in her mourning gown with Rhett Butler. It was all perfect.

I woke up around ten o'clock and yawned, stretching my arms toward the licks of sunlight that probed through my wooden slat window blinds. Have you seen those silly Disney movies where little animals help wake up the sleeping heroine and get her chores done while she dances around and sings in perfect pitch? I suddenly, achingly, wanted one of those moments. I didn't have a pet, let alone one that could do my hair or put my wash in the laundry. I sighed. Sometimes real life is just too tough for words to express. I slumped out of bed and fell into the shower.

While I was rubbing myself with a bar of cucumber melon soap, I remembered that I needed to get to the mall and home again before work at five o'clock! Crap! I washed the shampoo out of my hair and the soap off my body. I found some old denim clamdiggers in the closet and squirmed into them. I threw on a v-neck purple tee shirt and started blowdrying my hair. Honestly, that task took the longest. Finally, I slapped on my make-up, grabbed my purse and car keys, and was out the door lickety-split.

The closest mall is in Shreveport. We have a women's boutique in Bon Temps, but the property is owned by my boyfriend, Vampire Bill. I didn't want him to know that a) I'd lied to him about having something to wear, or b) that I wanted to pay for it myself. Besides, the stuff at Tara's boutique was nice, but it was always really expensive! I really couldn't afford to spend too much on the dress. It would have to be something nice, pretty, but crazy cheap.

I wandered the mall for almost an hour, but I couldn't find anything that fit all of the requirements for a dress. Some were cheap (in the after-prom sales) but neither nice nor pretty. Some were really pretty but not that nice (read: slutty!) or terribly cheap either. Some were really nice, but maybe a bit too nice-girl for a vampire event. I wandered down to the Couchmann's department store in a last ditch effort to find something suitable. The thing is: Couchmann's doesn't really have a lot of dresses that fit into my three categories. Most of their things are nice and pretty, but they're usually really expensive too. But darnit, I wasn't going to show up at the party in a canary yellow prom dress that was several years old! I probably wouldn't even fit into it anymore!

After heaving a great big sigh, I stepped into the formal dress department. I looked around through big racks of floor length prom dresses in a variety of colors, many of them with beads stuck on the bodice or gathered parts in the skirt. Some of them were beautiful, but most of them were well over $100, even on sale. I soured and turned to leave. In my path, taking up most of the breathing space even though she wasn't too much taller than me and obviously quite a bit thinner, a sales lady stood grinning at me. She was beautiful, the kind of woman you'd expect to see modeling bikinis in a Harper's Bazaar, not selling ball gowns to Louisiana teenagers. The sales girl, Claudine according to her nametag, was tall and thin, but not thin in an annoying way. She had a beautiful face, a gorgeous pink-lipped smile, and long dark brown hair that fell around her face in a perfect frame.

"Hi there!" She greeted me happily. It was a genuine happiness, not like the plastic grin I reserved for the drunks at Merlotte's.

"Hi," I said. I smiled at her because her personality seemed to exude delight. It was contagious.

"What can I help you with?"

"Well, I'm not sure," I frowned and looked around me at the racks of dresses. "I'm going to a fancy dress ball in Shreveport this weekend. I need an inexpensive, semi-formal dress to wear." I frowned. Might as well be honest. "I really can't afford to spend more than, maybe, $75."

"I know just the thing!" Claudine giggled. She took my hand and led me off into another section of her department. She smiled happily at every other customer we passed, and they all smiled back. Claudine seemed to inspire joy in everyone. I liked her instantly.

"Okay, here it is!" She parked us in front of a lonely dress on a solitary rack in the back of the store.

The dress was perfect. Perfect. It was a candy apple red color, bright and attractive to the eye. It had a halter tie around the neck with a wide strap that wouldn't be too uncomfortable as the night wore on. The sweetheart bodice had black trim and an empire waist that would make my breasts look perfect and not bulgy. The whole thing taped out into a full skirt with a crinoline slip that stuck out just below the hem and had a black satin trim of its own. The dress was meant to fall just below the knees and flare out when you spun around on the dance floor. I think my jaw dropped open when I saw it.

"It's…" I breathed.

"It costs $50 on sale, last one we have. And I have a twenty percent off coupon you can use too!" Claudine beamed at me. "Now, do you have shoes? What about a clutch?"

"I…no…" I stuttered, still staring at the dress.

"Okay, well, let's get you some then!" Claudine beamed.

The sweet sales girl took the dress off the rack and carried it with her while we walked to the shoes department. She steered me right to a wall of beautiful dress shoes, and found me a pair of high-heeled, open-toe, patent-leather Mary Jane pumps that were on sale for a glorious $15 (How? Why?), and then paraded me to hosiery (Cuban heel nude thigh-highs for $3), and then to accessories. There, we picked up a small shiny black leather clutch for $10. Claudine rung me up, included the twenty-percent off coupon, and bagged my outfit. I'd managed the entire thing for less than $65. I stared in amazement.

"You're amazing! You're a complete life saver!" I squealed with delight, practically falling over the cash register to hug her.

"Just call me your fairy godmother!" Claudine giggled, blowing me a kiss and throwing in a wink for good measure. I laughed. No kidding.

"Bill is just going to die when he sees me," which was sort of true since he was already, technically, dead.

"You know it!" Claudine grinned. She handed me my bags. "You be sure to come back and see me sometime, girl!"

The two days of time between now and the ball couldn't possibly pass by any slower! I had a wave of extra energy that I threw into my work at the bar. Sam even commented on how cheerful and happy I was, greeting every customer (even Jane Bodehouse) with a delighted and perfectly genuine smile. I washed tables down while whistling to myself, and I gossiped with Arlene about Bill, and I asked Holly and Danielle about their children. Maybe I was a little over-excited, but I tried not to be annoying about it.

On Saturday evening, after work, I drove home at whirlwind speed. The sun was still up and I had several hours to get ready. I thought about taking a little nap, but I was so pumped with energy that I couldn't sit still. For awhile, I lay on my bed and thought about Bill in a suit. I wondered what he would wear. Would he put on something from the Civil War era, with tails and buttons and a black bowtie? No, no, Sookie, this event is semi-formal! He's not going to wear the 1860s version of a tuxedo! Maybe he'd put on a dinner jacket and a collared shirt, and maybe a neat blue tie. No no, erase the tie. In my mind, I put him in one of those beautiful outfits from a Jane Austen period movie. He'd wear a green velvet jacket with wide lapels, a vest with brass buttons, and a pair of tan pants with high black riding boots. Oh, and a hat! I giggled with sheer glee. Oh yes, that would be perfect. Except, you know, we wouldn't match at all.

At seven, I finally went into the bathroom to begin my toilette. I took a long bath, shaving my legs even though I'd just done them and my underarms too. I trimmed my eh-hem (as Gran referred to it) and then washed my hair under the running water. Out of the bath, I smoothed a luscious mildly scented body cream over my skin to make myself extra soft. Then I applied just a tiny bit of perfume to my breasts and wrists. In the bedroom, I put on a lacy black thong and a waist garter with clips to hold up my thigh-highs. They rolled over my skin easily without tearing. The heels looked really different and very pretty, and there was a black line up the backs of my legs that drew attention to me in a subtle and pleasing way. Thanks to the powers of Victoria Secret, I had a convertible black lace bra that looped around my neck under the halter strap of the dress. I held the gown up in front of myself in the bathroom mirror before I unzipped it and put it on.

"Wow," I gasped at myself. "Sookie Stackhouse, you look amazing."

I got out the curler and curled my hair, deciding to leave it long. I put a little barrette on one side for color, but let it out over my shoulders. Perfect. I danced around in front of the mirror. The skirt swirled around my hips. Yep, absolutely, one-hundred percent perfect. I was just putting on my shoes when the phone rang. I grabbed it off the hook and put it carefully to my ear so as not to mess up my hair.

"Sookie," Bill said coolly. A little shiver rolled down my spine.

"Hey Bill," I beamed.

"I'm sending a car to pick you up. I am being called in early to do some errands with Pam."

"Oh," I frowned a little. "You don't have to call someone. I can just drive."

"It's already been done," Bill said. "The car will be there for you at ten o'clock."

"Oh, wow. Thanks!" I couldn't help but giggle. How fancy! "Will I see you there?"

"Of course," he said plainly. "I will meet you at the hotel. Travel safely."

He hung up. I went back to the bathroom to put on my make-up. It was nearly ten o'clock already!

Just as I was stuffing my face with a leftover biscuit and putting my wallet and house keys into my clutch, there was a knock at the door. I poured a glass of sweet tea down my throat, reapplied my lipstick, and went to answer it. The chauffeur had arrived, dressed like all chauffeurs are, I guess. He had on a black suit and a little black hat. He took my hand and led me out to the car. It was all ridiculously fancy, and I had to hold back my giggles so I wouldn't look like a newbie. I was totally a newbie.

The windows were tinted, so I couldn't look out of them while we drove to Shreveport. Thankfully, there was a little personal radio in the back, so I turned it on. I flipped through the channels for awhile before I landed on a station playing Frank Sinatra. Normally, I'm not a fan of oldies, but with the swing dress on and the 1950s hair style, I felt like I should be listening to the music my Gran probably liked when she was my age. Really, it had a great beat. I knew a lot of the words because, let's face it, who hasn't been to one of those retro diners? I sang along to a bunch of doo-wop hits and Motown songs and even a couple of old Elvis numbers. I was having such a grand time that I didn't even notice when we passed into the Shreveport city limits. We rolled up in front of the hotel at a few minutes past eleven o'clock, and I shut off the radio just as the door opened wide and a hand dipped in to help me out. I took it, assuming it was that of my chauffeur, and stood up on the paved sidewalk.

There I was, Sookie Stackhouse in all her finery, staring into the quite beautiful blue eyes of Mr. Eric Northman, thousand year old Viking vampire. I think I gasped a little without realizing it because his eyes filled up with laughter, and his mouth turned into a smile.

"Miss Stackhouse," he greeted me. He dropped his eyes and inclined his head because vampires don't really shake hands. "It is my great pleasure to receive you this evening."

And oh I'd be lying if I told you it wasn't a great pleasure to see him too. The Viking vampire was dressed casually, and yet to the nines. I wanted to fall right over and do that Southern belle fainting thing just to show my appreciation for the glory that was Eric. Wow. He'd worn a white dress shirt, but he'd uncuffed the sleeves and left them to hang loose around his large hands. The shirt was only buttoned two-thirds of the way, and his beautiful pale skin had a slightly luminescent glow that only I could see (well, I was the only human that could see it, anyway). He'd worn tight black jeans, probably designer, and they perfectly accented his figure. I found myself wanting to ask him to turn around so I could see the back. His hair, which was as long as mine and as blond as mine, was pulled back in an intricate and quite beautiful braid. A few wisps of his fine mane fell around his face like a wheat-colored halo. I tried without success not to bite my lip with sheer wonder. The action only made Eric smile more. I just thanked my lucky stars he wasn't leering. I had a date.

"Are you greeting guests yourself?" I blinked at him, looking around at the crowd meandering up the short flight of marble stairs into the hotel. Eric's eyes were on me only. It was as though he didn't even notice his own party guests.

"Only the most important ones," Eric said. He held out his arm to me, and, trying to be polite, I took it. He walked me inside through a revolving door, and we glided past a number of beautifully dressed vampires in varying states of refinement. No one looked as casual as Eric, but it was his party. He could dress however he liked.

"Have you seen Bill?" I asked him quietly as he led me into an extravagantly decorated ballroom. There was a shining wooden dance floor in the center of the room, and round tables with white damask tablecloths in a circular layout around it.

"I've asked him to take care of some things before arriving. He should be along." Eric was nodding his head to some of his guests. "Would you care to dance?"

The dance floor was empty, even though a band was playing. I looked over my shoulder for Bill, though I knew he wasn't around. Reluctantly, I agreed with a vampire-like nod of my own head. Eric grinned again, in a very Eric-esque way, and led me out onto the dance floor. He slid one hand around my waist, and with the other he took my hand. In perfect time with the music, the Viking vampire swirled me around the dance floor.

When a man lives for a thousand years, you expect him to acquire a few skills. But really, I had no idea that any man could really master the art of dance. I thought about my brother Jason, a man who could bump and grind with a girl when he was three sheets to the wind, but that was about it. Jason was the only man I'd ever seen come close to any real dancing ability, and he was practically having sex with the girls he chose to share that…talent with. Eric Northman, on the other hand, could dance. I mean, he could really dance. He led me through an elegant waltz, and as the dance floor began to fill with guests, he ordered a swing from the band. They complied with a spunky Latin-based tune. I'd never tried to swing dance before, though I've seen it done a couple of times. Eric, being a great lead, twisted me and shimmied me, and even sent me shooting between his legs in an elaborate and exhilarating move. I couldn't help but glance up quickly to note that he was aroused by the dancing. And boy was he aroused. Wow.

Eric and I danced for two more fast numbers before the band switched to a slower melody. I was having so much fun that I didn't mind it when he pulled me against his chest, clasped me around the back, and rocked our bodies to a quiet love song that drifted through the ballroom. I had to tear myself away from a dreamy state when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Bill's eyes were glowering at Eric, and at me too. I gave him my most innocent smile, but I could not have felt more guilty. That Viking was a terrific partner.

"May I cut in?" Bill asked Eric through clenched teeth. His fangs were slightly out and he looked murderous. Eric only smiled and nodded.

"Thank you for the dances, Sookie," he said to me. Then he nodded to Bill and walked away. I tore my eyes away from him by force to look at my boyfriend, Bill Compton. Bill looked considerably more refined than his boss, and I certainly enjoyed it. He'd put on a beautiful white shirt (buttoned up to the neck), and a black dinner jacket with black pressed slacks. He looked nice, really nice. But he wasn't smoldering with pure charisma and absolute confidence like Eric. They were two very different men.

"I have been wandering around for twenty minutes, looking for you," Bill said, taking me against him in Eric's place. It was a little strange, adjusting to Bill's shorter stature, his lankier build. I wrapped my arms around his neck and we danced in a small circle. The band began another ballad.

"We were only dancing while I waited for you," I said innocently. That was true. I rested my head on Bill's shoulder and looked out at the crowd. My eyes fell instantly on Eric, standing a few feet away, talking to someone. I could see his backside now, and it was better than I could have imagined. The thin denim hugged his tight, muscular backside in a way that would have excited me to glorious embarrassed giggles in other circumstances.

"Eric should not have intruded. You are mine," Bill said, his voice raspy with possessiveness. Oh good grief.

"He didn't do anything untoward," I frowned. I lifted my head to look at Bill. "You really need to learn to trust me."

"I trust you, Sookie." He touched my face. "It is Eric I do not trust."

"Well it takes two to get frisky," I moped.

"Yes," Bill replied. He still looked sour and cranky.

* * *

_Stay tuned for part two, the conclusion of_ "Pantoufle en Verre".


	2. Chapter 2

**Pantoufle en Verre**

_Part 2 of 2_

I frowned at Bill, who bent his head to brush his lips against my temple. He drew his head back with a mild growl. I raised an eyebrow at him, standing back slightly to look him in the eye.

"What?" I asked. "Don't you like my perfume?"

"You smell like Eric," Bill growled again, his voice low and distant and very clearly pissed off.

"Oh for goodness sakes!" I dropped my arms from Bill's shoulders and stood back a step. "We were only dancing! It was completely harmless!" Bill yanked me back against him, maybe a little harder than was actually necessary. He turned me around on the floor so that he could glare at Eric over my head. I pouted a little. Now I couldn't stare at his backside anymore. Damn!

"Nothing with Eric is completely harmless, Sookie," Bill muttered near my ear. He pulled me closer to him, and I could feel his aggression turn into a very familiar desire to erase Eric's scent from me. This possessive thing was just ridiculous. Stupid vampires!

With all the strength I could muster, I pushed Bill away. He didn't move much, but the effect was still there. He dropped back again and focused in on me. Sometimes it's hard to know what Bill's feeling, but other times? I mean, you could never mistake that look. That look said "Sookie is mine. Touch her and I'll kill you!" And boy was it irritating. I mean, sure, Eric was nice to look at (oh boy was he!), and he was a great dancer, but I was Bill's date. Or at least, I had been.

"I know you're a vampire and you're about as territorial as they come, but I am NOT some little woman that you can just…just…" What was I trying to say here? Oh yeah. I'm not his bitch. "I'm not your bitch!"

"Sookie!" Bill stared at me, horrified. Oh yeah, Bill the Southern Gentleman. Well wake up and smell the 21st century, honey!

"Take your hands off me!" I squeaked at him. I was losing my own composure. There were eyes on us. I was certain two of those eyes belonged to a certain Viking. Bill's hands fell to his sides like rocks dropped from a roof top. "Now! I'm going to go get a…a drink. When you've regained some kind of self-control, you're free to join me!"

And with that, I stalked out of the ballroom.

As soon as I was out of the room though, I clutched the concierge desk to keep from toppling over. I bet you Cinderella never yelled at the prince in front of a room full of his peers. Oh hell, Sookie, what have you gone and done now? I could feel someone staring at me and I whirled around, my clutch raised like a weapon. Never sneak up on a girl in a bad mood. Eric was standing behind me. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. His mouth was straight-lipped. His eyes were dark. Oh crap, he looked unhappy. I dropped my arm.

"Eric," I said quietly. I fell into a chair near the desk. Eric sat down opposite me.

"You fought with Bill," Eric said with a tone in his voice I didn't really recognize.

"He was getting on my nerves." I said. Hm, maybe I shouldn't share with Eric. Bill would be really pissed. I paused. Oh fuck Bill and the horse he rode in on!

"He's right to be possessive of you, Sookie. I would be, if I were in his place." Eric was calm and matter of fact, but he still didn't smile.

"We didn't do anything wrong! We were just dancing!" I exclaimed, my voice hitting that squeaky pitch again. I looked at Eric. He really was a thing of beauty. I imagined his arms around my waist again, rocking me to the music. Eric was far more powerful than Bill. He wouldn't feel the need to be so clingy with our relationship, would he? I mean, if we had a relationship.

"Admittedly, I was thinking about more than dancing, Sookie." For a moment, his eyes glittered. Then they darkened again. I felt my cheeks warm up, and I struggled not to blush. But now I wanted to know what Eric was thinking about while we'd danced. He'd been aroused. By the way he was sitting, I could tell he was no longer in that same state. What a waste. "If Bill did not possess you, I would take you for myself."

Oh yes, take me!

And then: good grief, Sookie! You have a boyfriend!

"I'm his," I said quietly, "but only because he told me that it was the only way he could protect me. I'm not his dog. I'm my own person."

"Yes. Your desire for independence is remarkable and intriguing," Eric said. Was that a compliment? I had no idea.

Eric got to his feet and held out his hand to me. I took it without thinking twice about what Bill might think.

"Come," he said. "Bill will wish to apologize to you and to erase my scent from your skin." The way he said that last part, I wanted to jump his bones right there in the middle of the room. He looked at me, giving me a full-body stare before he ushered me back into the room alone. Bill was standing a foot or so inside the door and off to one side. He took my arm and pulled me close. I could see the hurt in his eyes.

"Sookie," he said. His voice was full of regret. "I apologize. I know you had no intention of betraying me with Eric." Well, that was partially true. I didn't want to do the things that were running around in my brain. Well, maybe just a little.

"Bill," I sighed. "I love you. You have to trust me."

"I do trust you." He kissed my forehead, then my lips. A surge of ache went through me.

"Dance with me?" I asked him. He nodded and we walked back onto the dance floor.

We danced to two ballads and a melodious waltz. Bill was a dancer as well, though perhaps not quite as graceful as Eric. Dances had changed a great deal since Bill had been alive, and maybe he hadn't actually done so much dancing in recent years. He waltzed beautifully though, gliding me around the room so that my skirt flared up around my hips. I wanted to quote Scarlett O'Hara to him ("You do waltz divinely, Captain Butler!"), but I didn't think he'd quite get the reference. Bill didn't strike me as the kind of guy that enjoyed movies, particularly movies about a time in which he was alive.

The band was starting up again on another song when there was a loud banging noise. Our heads turned with every head in the room to watch three big, burly men tumble into the room. They weren't vampires. They looked like Weres, really big Weres. I blinked and Bill pulled me against him. For once, I didn't mind his protective nature.

"Where's the Northman?" One of the men growled in a way that cut through my skin and rumbled my heart. I grasped Bill's arm and held on tightly. We watched Eric glide over to the men calmly. I couldn't hear him speak, but I guessed Bill could. I watched the muscles in his shoulders ripple. He tossed his head and his braid fell from his shoulder and slid down his spine. Though Bill was holding me, and I valued his presence, I wished their roles were reversed. I wished I were huddled against Eric's chest.

"We need to go," Bill whispered near my ear. I nodded discreetly. He picked me up off the ground to make a fast exit faster. I watched with eyeballs like saucers as one of the large men changed before my very eyes. There was a weird sound, like a sloppy stew stirred in an enormous pot, and the man's features transformed into those of a very large, very imposing, very magical wolf. I inhaled loudly and grasped Bill tighter.

"What about Eric?" I hissed under my breath. Bill was looking for another exit. We couldn't go out the way we'd come in.

"He'll be fine." Bill said dismissively.

"My purse!" I squeaked suddenly. I'd left it on the table in the reception area when I'd sat down with Eric.

"We'll come back for it, Sookie." Bill grunted. He'd found a way out. We were moving speedily toward the door. My hair actually flew out behind me like a curtain. I turned my head to watch as Eric took on the werewolf, his arms so muscular and incredibly strong. There was a whimpering noise. Those arms had held me only an hour ago.

"What was going on?" I asked Bill quietly as we drove home. Good thing I had an extra key under my doormat. I was worried about my wallet though…

"I don't know. Eric has many enemies." Bill said through tight lips. "He is a powerful man."

"Oh." Well okay then. We sat in silence for several miles. I stared out the window. I thought about what Eric might do to the werewolf intruders. My skin crawled just imagining it.

"You still smell of him," Bill said as we drove into Renard Parish and took the turn toward our own little corner of Bon Temps.

"Don't start," I frowned. But something in his voice made me turn and look at him. His brown eyes seemed to light up the car and I knew what he had on his mind.

"Soon, you'll smell only of me." His fangs had dropped down. The car screeched to a halt, though we were still a good quarter mile away from the farmhouse.

"We're almost home," I frowned at him. But Bill only shook his head. He got out of the car. He was around my side in a flash and he yanked me out too. His mouth pressed against my throat and he lifted me up off the ground and pressed me against the passenger side back door.

"Bill," I whispered hoarsely, but his pants were already off and hanging around his ankles. He pulled at the lace panties I'd worn and tossed them on the hood of his car. I gasped loudly and suddenly as he entered me without even giving me a chance to warm up first.

And then Eric popped into my brain. Eric was caressing my skin, massaging my breast, taking the time to undress me. He placed kisses on the insides of my thighs, stroked my little triangle of flesh, teased me until I begged him to stop. His long tresses brushed my nose and lips as he bent to kiss my lips. He filled me up so completely that I had to bite back the pain, and he was careful to let me adjust to the sensation of him.

Bill bit into my skin ferociously as he came, tearing me out of my fantasy and bringing me startlingly back to earth. I dug my fingers into his shoulders and trembled. He let me down on the ground and helped me back into the car. I whimpered quietly, and Bill's hand reached over to stroke my thigh as we continued driving to the house. Parked on the rutted gravel driveway, Bill swung around the car again and lifted me up to take me inside. He got the key out from under the mat and unlocked the door. Then he slammed it behind him.

"He's all over you," Bill growled.

"Don't tear the dress," I begged him. It was the only request I could get in before he'd disrobed me and carried on the way he had only a few minutes before. The experience left me feeling…used. But I didn't want it to end.

When Bill thrust inside of me for the second time that night, my thoughts went sailing back to Eric. His muscular arms scooped me up and tossed me over the arm of my sofa. I leaned back on the cushions with my hips up in the air and he entered me. I whined with a spasm of pain and a thousand pounds of pure pleasure. He was gentle but firm, pulling my hips against his over and over again. His long hair fell down into his eyes and he groaned and growled underneath that blond veil. My moans, I'm certain, escaped the parameters of my fantasy which only enlivened the Bill in my reality, the Eric in my fantasy. I could feel my climax. I was swimming in desire.

I dug my hands into Bill's arm and tore at his skin with my fingernails. Eric was staring down at me with those smoldering, fiery blue eyes. I threw my head back and groaned, my voice hitting a new octave. Eric Eric Eric Eric. Oh God Eric!

"Bill!" I cried, straining to remember where I was, and, more importantly, who I was with. Bill collapsed on top of me. I hadn't even realized we were lying on the floor.

The night carried on in much the same fashion, with Bill initiating four or five more intervals (until I literally begged him for mercy). I imagined my way through every one. Bill was rough, as Bill often was when competing with Eric. This just happened to be the first time that Bill actually had competition, even if it was only in my head. He left just before dawn to return to his own home, his own hidey hole. And I closed my eyes. It was a dreamless sleep, and I tossed and turned for much of it.

When I woke up late in the evening, I was in agony. I wanted to crawl into the bath and sink under a mountain of heavenly scented bubbles, but there was a knock at the door. I put on a robe and slumped to the door. Did I look as overworked and underpaid as I felt? I opened the door with a mild groan. Then I noticed who was standing there.

"Eric," I blinked. Wow, the vampire of my fantasies was standing on my porch and I looked like death served lukewarm. He frowned at me, and I mean really frowned.

"Sookie, are you okay?" He looked genuinely concerned (was that possible?).

"Yeah, I…I think I'm coming down with something." I lied.

"Then I will make my visit a brief one," Eric said.

"Oh. Oh, come in," I said. Wow. I was forgetting my manners. Not a good thing, Sookie, not even when you look and feel like something thrown up on your favorite blouse. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, no. I'm fine." Eric shook his head. His hair was loose and it drifted around his head in a wave. I tried not to stare. "I wanted to apologize for the fight last night."

"That wasn't your fault," I protested, though honestly I didn't know what had happened.

"Regardless, I had hoped you would enjoy the remainder of your evening with Bill, and you did not get the opportunity."

I thought about throwing in a snide remark, but my sex life with Bill wasn't really up for discussion. Some things should be kept private.

"I appreciate the thought," I said instead.

"You left this behind at the hotel." Eric set my black clutch on the table.

Oh I could have hugged him! In fact, screw it, I would. I got up out of the chair I'd slumped into and I threw my arms around Eric. My whole body ached, and I might have flinched a little when Eric, rather unexpectedly, drew me against his chest.

"You're hurt," Eric said after a long time of holding me against him with both arms.

"It's nothing." I said without emotion.

"Ah. Bill has erased my scent from you." He said. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, and some part of me really wanted to know.

"That's none of your business." I pulled back from him, reluctantly.

"You're right. It isn't." He touched my face, and oh god how I wanted to sink into his hand. "But if you were mine, Sookie, I would never, ever hurt you."

Then Eric got to his feet. I watched him from my chair. Every inch of me wanted to stop him, to kiss him the way he'd kissed me in Dallas. My aching body longed to spring into his arms, to allow him to possess me. I thought of my fantasies, his hands on my hips, his hair brushing against my cheek. He opened the door and stepped out of it. I looked at my purse sitting on the table. With a hand that I didn't realize was trembling, I opened it.

On top of my wallet and house keys, there was a small card, folded over once. I took it out of the bag and opened it with my thumb. Eric had beautiful, graceful script handwriting. He'd only written one thing inside, and it was unsigned. But obviously, it was from him.

_You look ravishing tonight, Sookie. _


End file.
